


The Worst Day

by hutchabelle



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-05
Updated: 2016-04-05
Packaged: 2018-05-31 09:00:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6464101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hutchabelle/pseuds/hutchabelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>September 11, 2001, was a beautiful late summer day in New York City. Horrifying terrorist attacks on the World Trade Center marred the city’s landscape and changed the nation and the meaning of 9/11 forever. Prompt: Black and White</p><p>Trigger warning: This story is about the attacks on the World Trade Center in New York City on September 11, 2001. It is closely based on the reality of that day and includes references to terrorism, anxiety and panic attacks, canon compliant character deaths, and other traumatic events. Every effort has been made to treat the events in the story with sensitivity and respect as well as pay tribute to the souls lost and lives that were changed forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Worst Day

 

“God, it’s too early to be here today,” Johanna grumbles as her friend places a steaming cup of coffee on her desk. “Why are you in the office already, brainless? You aren’t scheduled for the meeting this morning, are you?”

 

Katniss winks at her friend and shakes her head before settling at her desk, one over from Johanna’s. “No,” she replies. “Not in for the meeting. My sister had an early flight out of Newark this morning—missed her plane last night because she had the time wrong—so I got her to the airport and then went ahead and came in on the subway. I didn’t have time to go home, and I figured I’d bring you some caffeine instead of hanging out at the coffee shop and fighting foot traffic later.”

 

“You’re a peach. It’s sickening,” Johanna snaps, but there’s a twinkle in her eye that indicates she doesn’t feel nearly as snarky as she sounds.

 

“I prefer melon. Now drink your coffee and get to prepping. It’s already 8:15, and I know Boggs won’t be pleased if you don’t bring it in the meeting.”

 

“Oh, it’s already been broughten,” Johanna jokes, quoting a recently released movie they both love despite the differences in their personalities.

 

“If it had, the file would be closed by now,” Katniss teases and takes a sip of her coffee.

 

Johanna gives her the bird, and Katniss sticks her tongue out before pulling her cell phone from her purse. She flips her phone open and smiles outright when she sees a missed call from her sister. She hits the button to retrieve the message and deposits her purse in the bottom drawer as she listens.

 

“Hi, Katniss,” her sister’s voice greets her from the phone. “I just wanted to thank you again for inviting me to come visit you this weekend—and for not making too much fun of me for missing my flight last night. I had so much fun, and I promise to work hard in nursing school this semester. I love Berkley, but I miss you so much.”

 

Katniss swallows hard as her emotions overwhelm her. She’s more proud of her sister than she can stand to admit, but the distance has been hard on both of them. She certainly never thought Prim would attend college in San Francisco, but the program and financial aid packet there was simply too good to keep the siblings on the same coast together. She promises herself that she’ll plan a trip to the West Coast to visit as soon as she gets a couple of projects finished at work.

 

“I have to go, Katniss. We’re finally getting ready to take off. Sorry I missed you, but I love you. Stay safe, and remember to go for it. Stop being so careful, and take a risk or two this week. I want you happy.”

 

Katniss shakes her head, amused by her sister’s persistent words. They’d spent half the night after Prim missed her flight debating the merits of dating in a big city. Katniss insisted that anyone worth meeting was already married, and Prim spent way too much time trying to convince Katniss to try a brand new online dating site called eHarmony with little success. Prim rolled her eyes when Katniss pointed out that the company’s only been functioning for about a year, and she isn’t terribly interested in being a guinea pig in the dot com boom.

 

With another soft shake of her head and an affectionate grin, Katniss hits the save button and flips her phone closed. She glances at her watch and notices she’s only missed her sister’s call by a few minutes. The reception must have dropped while she was in the elevator as she climbed to the 56th floor of 1 WTC. She pulls up her email to recheck Prim’s flight number and types it into United’s website to check the status.

 

**United Airlines, Flight 93, Newark to San Francisco, delayed, 8:43 a.m.**

_Typical_ , she thinks wryly and settles in to work after uttering a silent prayer for Prim’s safety.

 

She barely glances up as Finnick, another co-worker, stops by Johanna’s desk, and they leave for their meeting. She knows if she makes eye contact, she’ll have to endure a round of teasing from the man—an incorrigible flirt despite his happy marriage. She mutters a quick “Good luck!” and returns to her work.

 

She’s pouring over a legal brief for the second time when she pauses for a moment. Electricity crackles in the air, and she can’t help but notice the raised hair on her right arm. Nothing seems to be out of the ordinary, so she breathes deeply and fights to control the anxiety that’s plagued her throughout her life. She knows she’s lucky—employed at Sidley-Austin, a well-respected firm, just months after graduating law school and involved in the _pro bono_ work her company supports. She has a wonderful sister who’s working her way through nursing school and a mother who seems to want to repair the strained relationship of her teenage years. She has a few friends and one who’d be her boyfriend in a second if she’d let him.

 

 _No, there’s no reason to be anxious_ , she tells herself and glances at her watch to see if her sister’s flight is finally on its way and nods. It’s 8:45.

 

Katniss takes another sip of her coffee and licks her lips as she sets it down. She’s just let go of the styrofoam when a massive boom pounds her ears. Jarred, she grits her teeth as the building shakes and shudders.

 

“What the fuck?!” echoes around her and intermingles with shrieks and shocked intakes of breath. Her eyes shoot to the windows, and she’s startled to see shards of glass, pieces of metal, and a cascade of papers plunging downward.

 

 _Oh no. No, no, no, no, no_ , her brain screams. Something’s not right. In fact, something’s very, very wrong.

 

She’s frozen to her chair when Johanna and Finnick arrive at her side. “What the hell was that?” Johanna demands, but Katniss can’t speak. “Brainless! What’s going on?”

 

The building stabilizes, no longer swaying more than usual, and the people in her office spring into action. Katniss’ vision blurs as her co-workers race around the office. Their mouths move, but she can’t hear anything despite being positive that a number of them are yelling. Heat floods through her, and she recognizes the beginnings of an anxiety attack. She drags her eyes to Johanna and forces herself to inhale slowly, hold her breath, and exhale before doing anything else.

 

Johanna waves her hands frantically, and Katniss blinks and shifts her eyes to the windows again. Her eyes close and open several times in slow motion, and it takes her what seems like hours to register that objects continue to fly past the windows. A piece of metal falls, followed by a flutter of paper, and then something that looks like— The world rushes back to her in a cacophony of color and sound.

 

“Oh my God,” she whispers in horror, positive she didn’t see what she thought she just saw. “Oh my God!” she shrieks before Johanna shakes her.

 

“Get it together, and talk to me. What’s happening?”

 

“I just— Oh, dammit. I just saw someone out there,” she whimpers and points to the windows.

 

Her co-workers turn to see what she can. Finnick’s handsome face is streaked with concern, but she can tell the moment he registers that something’s incredibly amiss. “Why is there stuff falling outside? What— Where’s a radio? We need a radio,” he shouts and practically leaps across a desk to flip on the portable device on a co-worker’s desk. Static sounds for a moment before chilling words fill the space.

 

“…Pat, we are just currently getting a look...at the World Trade Center. We have something that has happened here at the World Trade Center. We noticed flame and an awful lot of smoke from one of the towers of the World Trade Center. We are just coming up on this scene. This is easily three-quarters of the way up…we are…this is…whatever has occurred has just occurred, uh, within minutes and, uh, we are trying to determine exactly what that is. But currently we have a lot of smoke at the top of the towers of the World Trade Center. We will keep you posted.”

 

“Holy fuck,” Johanna curses under her breath and then screams.

 

“What? What did you see?” Finnick demands as Johanna points to the outside.

 

“I saw a person. Oh, shit! I saw a person. Falling.” Her voice reaches a terrified pitch, and Katniss suddenly snaps to attention.

 

“What do we do? We need to do something,” she says, and the lights go out.

 

Before she can react, a voice sounds over the building’s intercom. “Attention. This is an emergency. Please remain calm and proceed to the nearest exit. This is an evacuation. Again, this is an emergency. Please remain calm and proceed to the nearest exit. This is an evacuation.”

 

As the announcement ends, warning sirens sound and emergency lights flash. The normally bustling, well-lit office is pitch black except for the white light slanting through the windows and the flashing emergency lights. The building sways again, more subtly this time, and Katniss hears a horrifying snapping noise.

 

“What’s that?” she whispers, but no one can hear her over the din. Besides, she already knows. Her friend and would-be boyfriend Gale is an architect, and he’s told her what a building sounds like when structural integrity is breached. Her stomach sinks as she realizes the trouble she and her co-workers face.

 

Boggs, one of the senior lawyers with whom Finnick and Johanna were meeting before the explosion, shouts over the noise. “You heard the lady. Get moving! Shut down your stations, and let’s move get out of here. Evacuate! Go!”

 

Finnick shoots her a concerned look and yells to Johanna, “I need to get my phone and keys from my desk. Meet you at the elevators in two?” She and Johanna nod in frenzied agreement and scramble to secure their stations. Finnick’s only taken a few steps when he’s knocked sideways by what sounds like a sonic boom. Screams and shrieks fill the air and reach a fevered pitch when a ball of fire streaks across the windows.

 

Panic rockets through her and mixes with confusion and uncertainty. _What’s happening? What the hell is going on out there?_

Thankfully, Finnick recovers quickly and regains his footing. He glances at her and Johanna before motioning toward the elevators and holding his palm open to display two fingers. She flops into her chair and takes another cleansing breath. An eerie sense of calm pervades her body, which should be her first clue she’s moved past a panic attack and is in some form of shock. Johanna’s face swims before her eyes, but she can’t focus. It’s so dark that all she can really see are the whites of Johanna’s eyes and her glistening teeth.

 

“Katniss! Katniss, snap out of it!” Johanna screams and snaps her fingers in her face. “We need to move. We need to go.”

 

“Sure. Sure, no problem,” she responds, unsure of whether her voice is even audible since all she can hear is a roaring in her ears. Her hands move in slow motion, and her head wobbles as she scans her desk to see what needs to be stored before she can leave. With an emergency like this, anyone could access her files, and that’s not acceptable for a legal firm.

 

_It’s so dark. How am I supposed to shut anything down when I can’t see?_

 

Her computer monitor glows white, but black streaks flicker across the screen. The faint glow illuminates her workspace, and she lifts her hands to pick up the brief she was reading when the first explosion occurred. Her hands shake as she closes the file folder, and places it back in the drawer. Unable to process her actions, she watches as her fingers pull open the bottom drawer and remove her purse. Her left palm closes over her cell phone, and her legs push her to stand.

 

“We should go,” she says as calmly as possible to her co-worker.

 

“No, shit! Let’s get out of here!” Johanna swipes her purse from her desk and grabs a picture frame that’s always decorated it. It’s an old picture, grainy and discolored from film that didn’t hold its pigment. Johanna told Katniss once it was the only picture she had of her family. If her co-worker is taking it, she clearly doesn’t believe it’s safe.

 

_This is awful. Prim doesn’t know I’m okay. I can’t call her. She’s on a plane and won’t be able to turn her phone on for hours. I have to get out of here so I can tell her later that I’m really okay._

Johanna bumps into her and pushes her toward the elevator, and it’s then that Katniss notices a horrifying pungent odor. It smells like burning rubber and molten metal. She coughs as she pulls polluted air into her lungs and turns to her friend.

 

“Jo, that smell,” she chokes and then gags.

 

Johanna nods shortly and pulls her scarf from her neck to cover her nose and mouth. “I know. It’s awful. Did you just notice it?” Katniss nods and realizes again that her body isn’t handling the stress of the morning well. She’s used to dealing with anxiety, but this is unlike any situation she’s ever experienced before.

 

“Come on, ladies. Let’s move.” Finnick rejoins them and hands both women bottles of water and cloths to place over her mouth before covering his own. “You never know, but I’m going to guess we’ll need these before the end of the day.” Katniss nods her head slowly and unzips her purse to place the bottle inside before the trio exchanges looks and rushes from the office.

 

“Express or local?” Johanna demands. When neither of her co-workers answers immediately, she yells, “Express or local?”

 

Katniss forces herself to focus and snaps, “Local. Everyone’s going to be on the express.” She grabs Johanna’s arm and pulls her toward the elevator banks that will take them to the Sky Lobby on the 44th floor. The crowd waiting for the elevators mills nervously, and the three consider the number of people there.

 

“Should we leave or stay?” Finnick asks as he motions to the throng.

 

Johanna hesitates, but Katniss answers forcefully, “Let’s wait. If we freak out and panic, we’re going to do something stupid and get ourselves in trouble.”

 

“Good point,” he agrees with a frown on his face. “Anybody read any good books lately?” Johanna glares at him, but he shrugs. “Just trying to lighten the mood. I make jokes when I’m in crisis mode.”

 

Two elevators stop and open with a ding almost simultaneously. Finnick shoves the women inside one and jumps on the other with a promise to see them a dozen floors down. The others in the elevator chatter nervously as the car descends, and Katniss wonders if she’ll ever see her male co-worker again.

 

“What happened?”

 

“I think it was a plane.”

 

“Why? I don’t understand.”

 

Katniss listens to the conversations around her without registering anything but disbelief. None of what’s happening makes any sense. Why would planes be flying over Manhattan instead of over the Hudson and East Rivers where the flight paths usually are? Were the crashes on purpose? Was her tower hit with a plane as well? Why two?

 

 _Please don’t let this be an organized attack_ , she repeats as a mantra. _Please  let this be an accident._

 

The elevator jerks to a stop, and each rider pour into the lobby. Katniss cranes her neck, and breathes a sigh of relief when she saw the bronze hair of her friend from the other elevator. “Finnick! Over here!” she yells with a wave and grabs his hand when he reaches her side.

 

Sirens continue to blast throughout the building, and Katniss wants to scream at the insistent noise. There’s nothing quite as unsettling to her as the sound of emergency alarms, and she fights to stave off a flashback from the night her father was killed.

 

A screeching noise drowns out the alarms for several seconds, and she locks panicked looks with Finnick and then Johanna. “What was that?” she demands, but each of them already knows.

 

“The elevator cables are snapping, aren’t they?” Johanna shouts, and heads turn in their direction. “Stairs. Now.”

 

The three press through the crush of bodies as others panic and head for the stairwells. Finnick grabs each of the women’s hands and pulls them down the hall and away from the frantic crowd.

 

“There’s another stairway this way,” he insists before coughing deeply. Katniss drops his hand so he can cover his mouth again, and he nods his thanks. The smell has steadily worsened, although there’s still no trace of smoke.

 

“I wish we had some way of knowing what’s going on,” Katniss offers in an attempt to make small talk. “I mean, we know there’s been an explosion of some sort and the building’s on fire, but…”

 

Finnick turns from her friends, but then stops and faces them. “Some people in the elevator said it’s a plane. I’m guessing two planes since there were two explosions.”

 

“You’re fucking with us,” Johanna snaps. “There’s no way a plane— Oh my God. It’s an attack, isn’t it? It’s deliberate.” When he nods, her face blanches white. “I don’t want to die.”

 

“We’re not going to die,” Katniss insists. “We’ve got to stop thinking about this and go.” She glances at her watch and registers the time. 9:13 a.m.

 

They reach the stairway, and Finnick yanks it open. “Go!” he urges and shoves them in front of him.

 

“What is that?” Johanna asks, motioning to a small stream of liquid that runs down the stairs.

 

“Water?” Katniss asks. “If there’s a fire, the sprinklers are going.”

 

“It’s jet fuel,” Finnick answers. “It’s fucking jet fuel. It’s flammable. Go, girls. Go faster. I’m behind you, so you have to walk faster for me to make it.”

 

Johanna, in the lead, quickens her pace, and they hit the landing for the next floor and then the next and next. When they reach the landing for the 40th floor, the door bursts open, and several more people join them in the stairwell. Katniss glances over her shoulder and notices others pounding down the staircase behind them. Some move much faster than others, but she’s struck by the calmness of almost everyone. Very few panic outwardly, and it helps her remain serene in the situation as they work their way downward.

 

By the time they reach the lower thirties, the stream of evacuees meet a line of firefighters climbing upward. Murmurs and offerings of thanks fill the stairway as the groups pass each other. Katniss locks eyes with several of the men as they pass her. She’s struck by the stoicism on their faces and the determined set of their jaws as they work their way up to the devastation that would cause humans to jump to their deaths from 100 stories.

 

She can’t imagine the state of the upper floors in the building, especially if the explosion really was caused by a plane crashing into the building. If the liquid running down the stairs is jet fuel as Finnick insists, the planes must be large enough to hold thousands of gallons of fuel. 

 

Another glance at her watch shows 9:28. On the landing of floor 28, she stops suddenly, struck with a terrifying realization. Finnick smacks into her back. “If it’s really planes, that means they were probably hijacked,” she howls in fear.

 

Johanna turns and looks over her shoulder. “Come on, Katniss. We can talk about it when we’re out.”

 

“Prim’s flying today. What if it was her flight?”

 

“Katniss,” Finnick begins in a soothing voice, but she whips to face him.

 

“What if it’s hers?!” she screams at him.

 

“Then you need to make it out,” he says with an urgency that rockets through her.

 

Katniss quickens her pace, putting one foot in front of the other as she descends the stairs. She’s hyper-aware of everything, adrenaline coursing through her as the crisis continues. She’s mindful of the train of firefighters who continue to push past her with their equipment in an attempt to reach those who need help on the floors above them. She realizes others, including Johanna, wish the emergency responders well as they pass, and she adds her good wishes to them on occasion. She can’t imagine trying to get closer to the chaos she and her friends are escaping as the building continues to creak and crack around them.

 

She can hear Gale’s voice saying, “Steel reinforced concrete is probably the sturdiest building material of the modern era. It only fails due to shoddy construction or extremely intense heat—hundreds or thousands of degrees.” The memory scares her because she knows what’s happening in the upper floors of the tower must be infinitely more desperate than what she’s experiencing as she reaches the 13th floor.

 

She steps to the side to make way for a firefighter. His radio transmits emergency correspondence, and her heart sinks as she hears ladder, company, and engine numbers fade as the man climbs the stairs.

 

“…Engine 22, Engine 53, Engine 40, Division 3, Battalion 10, Battalion 12, Ladder 16, Ladder 2, Ladder 13, Engine 221, Engine 23, Engine 209, Engine 212, 279, 230, 229, 235, 220, 216, 217, 238, 214, Ladder 12…”

 

“There are so many,” she gasps, knowing no one can hear her over the blare of the sirens. She feels tears prick her eyes as the gravity of the situation settles over her. This day, September 11, will not be one she forgets any time soon, and she has a sinking sensation that she won’t be the only one.

 

She glances at her watch as they hit the landing for floor six, and notices they’ve been evacuating for almost an hour. It’s not quite 10:00 a.m., and she feels as if she’s been walking down stairs for half the day. Before she can take another step, she jerks her head as explosions sound around her. The building shakes again, vibrating from an energy that’s unlike anything she’s ever felt. Dread fills her as the noise grows steadily louder until it seems like a series of sonic booms reverberating through her bones. Her ears continue to ring as the building shudders to an unsteady stop, and she staggers as a whoosh of air blows up the stairwell.

 

“What the hell was that?” Johanna sputters as a cloud of dust rolls toward them.

 

Katniss grips the handrail and clamps her eyes and mouth closed. As the dirt blows past them, she bites the inside of her cheek. The pain helps keep her from losing her mind completely, which would be easy enough considering what she hears from the radios the firefighters carry.

 

“It’s gone! It’s gone. The South Tower’s gone. All FDNY in 1WTC, evacuate now. Get out of that building before it goes too.”

 

Her head spins, and her eyes roll wildly in her sockets. “My name is Katniss Everdeen. I live in Hoboken. My sister’s name is Prim. I’m a lawyer. I want to live,” she chants under her breath. Johanna and Finnick grab her arms and propel her forward as screams and shouts fill the stairwell.

 

“We’re moving. We’re almost out, Katniss. It’s going to be okay. We’re going to be okay,” Finnick reassures her as he pushes her forward.

 

They pound down the final few flights and emerge into the North Tower’s lobby into an area that looks nothing like they see on a normal day. The floor is covered with a thick coat of gray dust, and disheveled piles of papers sift across the ground. Crowds of people and emergency responders mill in the area shouting to each other in an attempt to coordinate the evacuation of the building. Debris continues to fall outside, and pieces of steel and metal crash into the lobby through the glass roof.

 

Katniss ducks her head and clings to the wall as the sky falls around her. The three struggle to move around rubble and people, frantic and scared, rushing for the doors. Johanna jerks to a stop, and moans, “Oh my God…”

 

Finnick and Katniss sweep their eyes to the devastation outside and, almost immediately, their mouths fall in disbelief. What seem to be mountains of twisted and broken steel and metal cover the ground. Fire and sparks burst from the wreckage. A dense cloud of black dust rolls occasionally, giving way to gray and then white in different sections of the ruins. It looks like Hell.

 

“Fuuuuck,” Finnick mumbles, “this is…” He shakes his head. No words can describe what the three see.

 

 _I should be panicked right now_ , Katniss tells herself, but instead she’s eerily composed. Out of habit, she glances at her watch again. 10:18 a.m.

 

Finnick lowers the cloth from his mouth so he can take a drink of water and immediately chokes on the acrid air. He covers his mouth with his hand to stifle the hacking and motions to Katniss and Johanna.

 

“You should drink something,” he coughs and struggles to control his breathing. “This dust is killer.”

 

The women nod in agreement and fumble with the water bottles as they try to keep their faces covered. As soon as Katniss lowers the material, her lungs fill, and she hacks the same way Finnick does. She forces herself to take several long gulps of water before quickly twisting the cap back on and hurriedly placing the cloth back over her mouth.

 

“We have to get out of here now,” Johanna sputters. “I can’t breathe.”

 

Finnick lifts his head and gasps, “Go on. I’ll be right behind you.” He bends over and puts his elbows on his knees in an attempt to clear his lungs.

 

A loud bang causes the three of them to jump. Katniss shrieks as chunks of metal crash through to the lobby floor. Shouts and screams from the men and women attempting to flee the building mix with the drone of the sirens in a cacophony so loud she feels as if her head is splitting.

 

_Hold it together. My name is Katniss Everdeen…_

Johanna grabs her arm and pulls her toward the door as falling debris continues to slam into the concrete floor. Katniss glances over her shoulder and catches one last glimpse of Finnick before a veil of gray dust hides him from her view. She stumbles and diverts her eyes to the floor just as another hunk of the building crashes through the glass ceiling and lands where she’d just been standing.

 

“Finnick!” she screeches and lunges toward her friend, but Johanna tugs her toward the door.

 

“We have to go, Katniss! Please!”

 

“Jo— We can’t! We have to—” Katniss jerks free and lurches toward him, but her knees buckle. She moans and reels at what she sees. It’s too horrific to process. “Johanna, help him! We have to help him!”

 

She feels herself grow hysterical, and she knows repeating her name internally won’t help quell her terror. Suddenly, the noise is too much, and she covers her ears and screams. She can see Johanna’s mouth moving, but she can’t read lips. Just when she’s positive she’s a second from losing it, three firefighters burst through the smoke and run toward them.

 

“Get them,” the captain shouts, and Katniss finds herself gazing into a pair of piercing blue eyes that gleam in a face caked in charcoal-colored dust.

 

“What’s your name?” he says, and Katniss blinks twice before shaking her head. “I’m Lieutenant Peeta Mellark, ma’am. I’m going to get you and your friend out of here. What’s your name?”

 

“Her name’s Katniss,” Johanna barks. “She’s in shock. Our friend…” She motions toward where they last saw Finnick, and Peeta nods briskly.

 

“Katniss,” he says firmly, “the building is unstable. We need to get you out of here. I’m here to help. I’ve got you.”

 

She nods, mute with disbelief, and feels his arm around her waist. She wills her legs to move, and before she realizes what’s happening, she’s free of the lobby and staggering down the littered sidewalk away from the maze of twisted steel. Her head whips from side to side, and she realizes Johanna’s a dozen yards ahead of her.

 

“This way,” Peeta says and guides her to the west across Church Street and down Fulton. “I’m going to get you to St. Paul’s, and then I need to rejoin my unit.” She doesn’t respond. She’s too busy staring at the glass lobby of the Millennium Hilton as they rush from the chaos behind them. A clock on the wall reads 10:28.

 

The hairs stand up on the back of her neck and pressure builds in her ears. She glances behind her as the sound of a quick succession of bangs reverberates around her. Above the haze of smoke, she realizes the building from which she just escaped is collapsing.

 

“Holy mother of God,” she breathes, and Peeta quickens his pace to a run.

 

“Get inside,” he orders as they reach Broadway. They stumble through the gate of the churchyard together and dive through the doors of St. Paul’s Chapel as a deadly cloud of ash and debris cloaks the building.

 

It sounds like a freight train is barreling through the small church, and Katniss throws herself into the firefighter’s arms. He folds her to his chest and shields her as the sky outside the church is choked out by the black haze of smoke and dust. The rush of the wind seems to suck the air from the church. Dirt blows through the partially opened door, and she feels a film cover her. She bites her lip to stop herself from screaming, but she can’t block out the whimpers and cries of the others in the small building. All she can process is that Finnick was probably still in there, and that almost makes her vomit.

 

_Where’s Johanna? What about Prim? Who’s going to tell Annie that Finnick’s not coming home? I can’t do this. I can’t take this._

 

She wails as she rocks back and forth, the sound wild and animalistic. Peeta snaps his fingers in front of her face in an attempt to gain her attention, but she can’t concentrate. He shakes her slightly by the shoulders until she focuses on him. When he’s positive she’s able to understand him, he orders, “You’re okay. Stay with me. I need you to fight what your mind’s telling you. You’re not in that building anymore. You’re safe.”

 

“My sister…” Her voice breaks, and she squeezes her eyes shut. “She’s flying today.”

 

His sapphire eyes soften, and she fights to control her anxiety. He suggests softly, “Try calling her. I heard over the radio that the FAA is grounding all flights in domestic airspace. Maybe she’s already touched down somewhere.”

 

“She missed her flight last night,” Katniss babbles. “She missed her flight because I didn’t think to check with her about when it was. By the time I realized, it was too late. She should have already been home by now. She wouldn’t have even been in the air today if I’d just asked.” Her voice rises as she speaks until she shrieks, “I’m her big sister! I’m supposed to protect her.”

 

“Katniss,” he interjects, “do you have a phone?” When she nods, he urges, “Call her. I don’t know if you can get through, but give it a try. If you get her, you can stop worrying.”

 

His face contorts in pain, and her eyes scan his body quickly. “Oh, shit,” she murmurs, still in a slight daze. “Your leg is bleeding.”

 

He flinches and struggles to his feet. When he’s upright, he looks down and directs her, “Call your sister. I’m going to go right over there and get this cut checked out. As soon as I’m patched up, I’ll be back.” Her eyes follow the direction he’s pointing, and she realizes a small cluster of firemen move through the people gathered in St. Paul’s. They stop occasionally to administer first aid to those who need it, even though many of them look like they’re in need of the same attention.

 

As he limps away from her, she digs in her purse for her phone. She’s grateful for the moment of lucidity that urged her to grab her bag as she prepared her desk and left her office. Now that the building’s gone, she realizes how she could have lost vital items if she’d left it behind. It seems like a small thing in the midst of events too surreal to fully comprehend, but she sighs in relief that she still has her house keys, wallet, and phone.

 

Her hand detects her cell, and she quickly flips it open and punches Prim’s number into the keypad. She listens in confusion to silence before realizing she hadn’t checked for a dial tone before attempting to connect the call. She snaps the phone closed and open again and holds it to her ear impatiently until she hears a faint buzz. She tries a second call and holds her breath.

 

Her heart drops when she hears the pre-recorded message indicating the number she’s trying to reach isn’t available. She punches the number again but gets nothing. She fights against another panic attack as she attempts to reach her sister again without any luck. By the time the lieutenant returns, she’s dialed over a dozen times and feels slightly crazed.

 

“I c-can’t get through,” she stammers and chokes on a sob.

 

Peeta takes the phone from her and closes it. “Cell service is out, Katniss. It might not mean anything that you can’t reach her. Don’t lose hope.”

 

“I have to get home. She’ll call there when she can’t reach my cell phone,” she argues. “When she finds out the buildings came down, she’ll be panicked. I need to get home. I need to go right now!”

 

He looks at her, this time with pity in his eyes, and she has to fight to stop from snapping at him. Her stomach drops when he tells her, “Giuliani shut the city down. The bridges and subways are closed. Where do you live?”

 

“Jersey,” she whispers. She’s suddenly aware of how eerily silent it is outside and realizes the immediate threat of the collapsed buildings is over. Inside the chapel, she’s isolated from the chaos outside, but she’s not too stupid to realize that there must be thousands of frantic people outside on the streets of New York. If all the methods of traveling into and out of the cities are blocked, it’s going to take her hours to get home.

 

“Let me go ask and—” He stops speaking and grabs his radio. She hadn’t realized he had one until this moment, but it crackles to life in his hand. The voice that comes through the speaker cuts in and out, but she wouldn’t be able to understand what the person is saying anyway because of the amount of jargon for emergency workers in the message. The only thing she catches is something about boats converging on Battery Park, but she’s blocks from there. Surely it’s not another attack.

 

Out of habit, she looks at her watch. It’s after 11:00, and she wonders how over a half hour has passed since she last saw her friends and co-workers. At least she knows where Finnick is despite how horrified she is by his demise, but she has no idea what’s happened to Johanna. However, her friend is tough as nails. Katniss is sure that Johanna is holding her own, safe somewhere outside of the church, and working on getting home to her apartment in Brooklyn.

 

She’s jerked out of her thoughts by Peeta’s voice. “Ma’am,” he begins and clears his throat. He pauses and rubs his hands over his face in an attempt to wipe off some of the dust and sweat that covers his features. Instead of cleaning it, however, he creates a paste that looks almost like a death mask. Her heartbeat quickens, and she feels faint. In seconds, she’s hyperventilating, and Peeta immediately becomes the emergency responder she realizes he’s trained to be.

 

“Look at me,” he urges. “Deep breaths. Breathe in; breathe out. You’re okay, ma’am. You’re okay, Katniss.”

 

Katniss fights her panic, struggles against all the trauma and loss of her past to work through the terror of the day. An intense buzzing fills her ears, and she realizes she can’t hear what he’s saying as the walls whirl around her. Her eyes widen in panic, and she locks her silver ones on his instead of watching his mute lips. It’s only seconds before she loses consciousness.

 

****

 

“Ma’am.” She hears it from far away, but there’s something comforting about the voice. “Katniss! Come on, ma’am. Stay with me.”

 

At his insistence, she struggles to open her eyes and cautiously studies the blue gaze camouflaged in gray. A black helmet with yellow reflective tape contrasts sharply with the ghostlike pallor of his skin. She’s comforted by the fact that this man is a firefighter. Her dad had died in an explosion, burned beyond recognition. The only way she and her family had been positive he was dead was through dental records. Maybe if he’d had someone like the lieutenant fighting for him during his crisis, he would have been saved.

 

“Katniss,” he insists, “are you okay?” She nods her assent and struggles to sit upright.

 

“I want to go home,” she sobs. “Please help me figure out how to get there.”

 

He hesitates slightly, a war reflected on his face, but he agrees. “There’s a water evacuation at the tip of the island. I don’t know where any of my men are, but the last thing we need right now is one more panicked person in lower Manhattan. I’ll get you to the boats, but then I have to report back to my superiors. I wish I could do more.”

 

His tone is gentle, and Katniss believes him. It’s apparent he does want to help her, and he’s not condescending when he discusses her tendency to succumb to anxiety attacks. Instead, she feels as if he understands her and what her body undergoes during her episodes better than anyone, except maybe her sister.

 

The thought of Prim makes her stomach clench again, and she quickly pushes those feelings away. She can’t afford to think about the possibilities regarding her sister’s situation until she’s safe at home.

 

Squaring her shoulders, she insists, “I’m ready. Let’s get out of here.”

 

Peeta helps her to her feet, and together they head to the church’s doorway. The heavy, carved wood is their last protective barrier from the turmoil outside, and Katniss is grateful for his firm grip on her arm. He pulls a rag from his pocket and indicates she should wrap her scarf around her nose and mouth.

 

“Take shallow breaths, and don’t be afraid to tell me if you need to stop for a minute. We’re going to head straight down Broadway and then veer toward Battery Park. I don’t want to get anywhere near what’s going on where the buildings are—were…” he finishes lamely, but she understands. It’s hard to grasp that the skyscrapers where she and so many others worked no longer exist.

 

“Thank you,” she says quietly, unsure of whether or not he hears her as he shoves the doors open and pulls her onto the steps.

 

If he wasn’t with her, she knows she wouldn’t be able to move. It’s black as night, and the only lights that cut through the haze are the red and blue flashes from emergency vehicles. Sirens blare, different from the ones inside the World Trade Center, but no less jarring. A thick blanket of white dust covers the ground, and Katniss marvels at how something as hard as concrete can disintegrate to nothing more than fine particles that look like polluted snow. Her eyes sting and tear, and her lungs burn, but she clings to Peeta as he heads south along the street.

 

 _Who could have done this?_ As her eyes register just how horrifying the scene in the Financial District really is, she almost screams the question but manages to hold it in. Asking that won’t help her get out of the area any faster, and she can’t spare the breath to voice it. That doesn’t stop her from pondering what’s happened as he leads her briskly toward the water and a promise of escape.

 

_Why did this happen? Why Finnick? Why him? Please, God, keep Prim safe today. Please let her flight be safe. Please let 93 be our lucky number._

Katniss blinks to clear her eyes and realizes she and Peeta aren’t the only ones moving through the caustic space. She’s always hated zombie movies, but the scene before her looks exactly like one. Men and women caked in white residue trudge along under the blackness. At first the people merge with the smoke, but as they draw closer, the light gray coating displays them in stark contrast to the darkness around them. They help each other, strangers and friends alike, and her eyes tear from the emotions welling inside her as well as from irritants in the air.

 

This is a black and white day, but also a gray one. Black because of the gloom and the evil of the people who did this, but it’s white too—full of goodness and consideration for others. Peeta; Finnick; the last message from her sister; the selflessness in the stairwell; the altruism on the street. All of them are pure, thoughtful, caring.

“I need to stop,” Peeta gasps. “My leg, and this gear is heavy.” They duck into a small, abandoned deli. The front windows are streaked with ash and dirt, but the air inside is somewhat cleaner and allows for them to unclog their throats. He pulls a few water bottles from the cooler and hands them to her. “Drink,” he orders firmly but kindly, and she complies.

 

The water feels fresh and clean, and she pours some onto her scarf so she can wash the sweat from her face. The cloth comes away caked with grime, and she briefly wonders what she must look like to the man helping her. It’s not vanity that makes her wonder as much as her curiosity about how much her outward appearance reflects the stress she’s undergone in the past few hours.

 

_Don’t be silly. He’s a firefighter. He sees a lot of people at their worst. That’s what happens in a crisis, and he’s much more used to them than I am._

 

As Peeta downs his water, Katniss pulls her cell phone from her purse and checks to see if it has a signal, but there’s nothing. Disappointed, she drops it back in her bag and shakes her head. She’ll find out about her sister soon enough. Right now she needs to concentrate on saving herself and not endangering the man who’s been kind enough to guide her to safety.

 

“You deserve a medal,” she tells him, and he quirks his head. “No, I mean it. You… I, uh, I don’t know if I’d be able to keep moving if you hadn’t helped me.”

 

He smiles then, the expression strangely out of place in the midst of the nightmare in which they’re embroiled. “You’re stronger than you think,” he offers gently.

 

“No, you just have a way of getting me to think I am,” she grins but immediately wipes it from her face. “When this is over, and we’re both safe…”

 

“I understand, Katniss. Let’s get you to the harbor. I haven’t gotten anything on my radio since we left St. Paul’s, but I was hearing intermittent information that hundreds of boats from Jersey and Staten Island and probably other places are evacuating people from Manhattan.”

 

Her heart lifts just slightly at the distinct possibility that she actually can escape the city and head home. They both adjust the material over their mouths and move back into the darkness together.

 

_There’s no color at all. Nothing but black and gray out here. Except those blue eyes he has. Nothing can dim that vivid tint._

She starts as the haze clears slightly and what looks like a large animal stands in her path. Peeta pulls her arm to get her attention. “It’s the Charging Bull,” he informs her, and she realizes they’ve made it to where Broadway turns to State Street just south of the New York Stock Exchange.

 

“We’re almost there,” she whispers, and her pace quickens slightly.

 

They press southward, both of them hacking and coughing as they fight their way to the tip of Manhattan and struggle to breathe. After a few minutes, Katniss sees the trees in Battery Park and knows they’ve made it. Dozens of boats are docked along the seawall while hundreds of people wait to load. Peeta steers her along a sidewalk toward the Hudson River, and she tears up when she sees the Jersey skyline across the water. It’s murky and hard to make out through the smoke, but it’s there.

 

They join a small group of people who await an approaching boat, and Katniss suddenly realizes she’s going to be alone again as soon as she boards the vessel. Turning to him, she throws her arms around his neck and sobs against him. He hesitates for only a second and then holds her tightly for a brief moment. When he releases her, she grabs his hand and holds it securely.

 

“How can I thank you?” she asks as her emotions darken her voice.

 

“There’s no need to thank me, ma’am. I’m happy to help.”

 

“Katniss,” she says.

 

“Ma’am?” he asks, obviously confused.

 

“My name is Katniss Everdeen. I live in Hoboken, New Jersey, and I want to thank you properly when this is over. It’s not up for discussion. I owe you my life, and it’s hard for me to be indebted to anybody for anything. The least I can do is express my gratitude when things are back to normal—whatever that is now. Please tell me how to get ahold of you after today.”

 

He starts to protest, but she cuts him off firmly. “I’ll find you anyway, but you sharing your information with me would make it a lot easier. I’m not a stalker; I just want you to know how much your help has meant to me. Quit being noble, and tell me.”

 

He nods curtly and answers. “Lieutenant Peeta Mellark, Ladder 42, Upper West Side.”

 

“Thank you, Peeta—I mean, Lieutenant Mellark.” Her voice cracks, and she adds, “Stay safe out there today.”

 

“Come on, lady,” a gruff voice demands. “People are waiting.” Peeta glares at the man, but he only shrugs. “Just stating facts. I’m trying to help as many as I can. She can always wait for the next boat.”

 

Slightly put off by the man’s abruptness after being treated so considerately by the lieutenant, Katniss balks. The older man’s crabbiness coupled with the faint smell of stale alcohol increases her already heightened anxiety. She clings to Peeta’s arm, and he winds it around her waist to soothe her.

 

“She’s been through a lot today, sir. A little kindness could go a long way.”

 

“I don’t really do nice, sir, but I am getting people the hell out of here. Come on, ma’am. I’ll get you off this hellhole.” His last sentence is a bit less brusque, and she sees a glimmer of sympathy in his gray eyes. She wonders if he softened because of Peeta’s rebuke or because she looks like she might snap at any moment.

 

She moves toward the boat but refuses to release Peeta until the captain grabs her arm and she’s settled. _Stay with me_ , she pleads internally, dreading the moment she has to let go.

 

“You’re safe now,” the lieutenant says. “I hope you hear from your sister soon. Don’t forget to breathe.”

 

Her hand slips from his, and she feels incredibly alone, despite the number of people on the boat. Peeta turns almost immediately and limps toward the trees. He’s on the radio within seconds and hidden from her view shortly after that.

 

As the ship heads for New Jersey, Katniss is shocked by the colors that emerge as she and the others escape the smoke and dust covering the tip of Manhattan. The world is no longer black and white, and all she can think is that the sparkling blue sky is the same shade as it was earlier in the morning before the attacks. It’s also the same hue of Peeta’s piercing gaze…and the eyes of her younger sister.


End file.
